Chapter 57 – Returning to the Village
As time passed, the gentle days of autumn slowly drew to a close. Even the Land of Fire—richest and most temperate of the entire continent—could not escape the creeping cold.
Yet amid the chill winds, the gates of Konoha were anything but quiet.
From the village entrance all the way to the Hokage Tower, the main thoroughfare was packed wall to wall with people. They lined both sides of the road, a dense, silent sea of figures craning their necks in anticipation.
Warm sunlight poured down from a clear sky, illuminating faces filled with barely contained excitement—there were shinobi who had remained behind to guard the village, children who had yet to graduate from the Academy, and even more ordinary villagers who had never set foot on a battlefield.
Half a month had passed since the peace treaty was signed, and Kumogakure had finally scraped together the first installment of its reparations.
In accordance with the agreement, Konoha began withdrawing its forces under Senju Morin's direct orders.
Only around three hundred regular troops were left stationed along the Fire Country border, replacing the original frontline units. Every other shinobi returned home.
Today was the day the Konoha forces came back victorious.
When that familiar figure finally appeared at the far end of the road, the cheers that had been held back for so long erupted all at once—crashing through the village like a tidal wave.
"It's the Hokage-sama!"
"The Third is back!"
At the very front walked the Third Hokage, Senju Morin.
He wore the iconic Hokage hat, his steps steady and unhurried. Beneath the white robes fluttering in the wind, he still bore the crimson armor he had worn on campaign.
Morin's expression was calm. He did not deliberately project his presence, nor did he seek to draw attention—his gaze simply swept gently over the villagers on either side of the road.
And yet, every person who met that gaze felt it.
Something about the Hokage had changed.
He seemed more imposing than before—yet at the same time, more reassuring. More solid. More worthy of trust.
Following behind Senju Morin were the senior figures of Konohagakure's leadership.
Advisor Nara Shikatsune, Advisor Sarutobi Hiruzen, Uchiha Isshin, head of the Uchiha clan, Senju Sōji, an elite jōnin of the Senju clan…
Like Senju Morin at the head of the procession, all of Konoha's senior leadership wore solemn expressions.
The reason was simple.
Behind them came a row of stretchers, carried steadily by Konoha shinobi.
Upon each stretcher lay a body, completely covered by white cloth.
At that moment, the cheers faded.
They were replaced by heavy silence and scattered gasps, as the joy of victory intertwined with the weight of sacrifice in every heart.
Konoha had won—but war was still war.
Death and loss were unavoidable.
Yet after that brief, suffocating grief came a sight that made everyone draw in a sharp breath—and then, the cheers surged higher than before.
One wagon after another rolled slowly forward, piled high with scrolls of every size.
Anyone with discernment knew what they were seeing.
The larger scrolls were sealing scrolls packed with supplies—Kumogakure's reparations: expensive chakra-conductive metals, rare minerals, and strategic resources.
As for the smaller ones—
Those were almost certainly Kumogakure's treasured ninjutsu.
At the very end of the procession marched over a thousand Konoha shinobi, spirits high, eyes sharp with pride and confidence.
Senju Morin continued onward until he reached the Hokage Tower.
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When he alone ascended to the rooftop, and his figure appeared by the railing, it was as if someone had pressed a mute button.
The roaring crowd fell silent in an instant.
Looking down over the village, Senju Morin spoke—his voice, amplified by chakra, carrying clearly to every corner.
"People of Konoha—
we have won."
A heartbeat of silence.
Then cheers erupted like mountains collapsing and seas surging.
Morin raised one hand and pressed it gently downward.
The overwhelming noise faded as if by miracle.
"This victory did not come easily," he continued.
"In this war, many of us lost family.
We lost friends."
"We defeated Kumogakure's greed and protected Konoha's peace and safety—but the price was the lives of one hundred and seventy-nine Konoha shinobi."
"This pain—I feel it as deeply as any of you."
"Their names will be carved forever upon the Memorial Stone.
Their spirits will continue to watch over Konoha's future."
"Konoha is a village that loves peace—but it is not a weak village.
Anyone who attempts to threaten us through war will pay the price for their despicable actions."
Morin's speech was not long.
He understood perfectly how to stir the emotions of his audience—and more importantly, what people truly cared about beyond abstract notions of honor or justice.
His voice suddenly rose, firm and final.
"Now, I—Senju Morin, Third Hokage—hereby announce:
First—Compensation for the Fallen!"
"All fallen genin shall receive four hundred thousand ryō.
Chūnin, five hundred and fifty thousand ryō.
Jōnin, one million ryō."
"They gave their lives for Konoha.
Konoha will never fail their families."
"Second—Rewards for Merit!"
"The first 1,300 shinobi who entered battle shall receive sixty thousand ryō each.
The 1,000 reinforcement shinobi shall receive twenty thousand ryō each."
"Your contributions will never be forgotten by the village!"
A wave of shocked exclamations swept across the square.
Participating in war and defending the village had always been a shinobi's duty—Konoha had never issued rewards for such service before.
And sixty thousand ryō was no small sum.
A typical B-rank mission involving combat paid only one to two hundred thousand ryō in total.
After the village's cut, and division among a four-man team, an individual shinobi usually received barely ten thousand.
As for A-rank missions—only jōnin could take them.
Even then, after deductions and distribution, personal earnings often amounted to just fifty or sixty thousand ryō.
What Morin had done was effectively convert the participation of genin and chūnin in this war into the equivalent payout of a full A-rank mission.
The compensation for the fallen was even more staggering.
Five hundred and fifty thousand ryō was nearly two years' income for an average chūnin—far exceeding the standards set during the era of the Second Hokage, Senju Tobirama.
This was deliberate.
Through these measures, Senju Morin was purchasing the loyalty of the entire village—building prestige, authority, and subtly reshaping how shinobi viewed war itself.
The cost, of course, was enormous.
Tens of thousands in rewards and hundreds of thousands in compensation sounded manageable—until multiplied by hundreds and thousands of shinobi.
Between compensation and rewards alone, Morin spent over one hundred and eighty million ryō, instantly consuming more than half of the massive reparations Kumogakure had just paid.
And that was after he had taken a ruthless bite out of the Land of Lightning.
Morin knew full well—had he followed the "peace without reparations" doctrine advocated by Sarutobi Hiruzen, there would have been no postwar rewards at all.
Even compensation for the dead might have been impossible.
From this moment onward, shinobi would no longer see war as merely an unavoidable calamity.
It had become something else entirely.
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